Title: Takeover
Author: Kiarene
Pairings: 1x5
Rating: R
Summary: AU. Corporate raider Heero Yuy has his sights on one Chang Wufei.

Published: 17th May 2004
Disclaimer: I so totally own them. Bwahaha.

Feedback: It keeps the boys panting.

 

 

Takeover 3

 

 

Slipping into my chair today, my mind still on the dinner and kiss the night before, I'm in a pretty upbeat mood. Sally left a stack of documents on my desk to look over — the Hamberg deal — but I push it away. Not important now.

 

Now, what's *important*...

 

I boot up my computer — I never leave it on when I'm not there; easiest way to hack into a computer is if one has console access — and start searching for information on Chang Wufei. After all, knowledge is power, and proper research is essential before embarking on any venture.

 

As a member of many statutory boards in Sanc, I have access to public databases, such as Sanc University's faculty and housing data. As I'm waiting for the download to my system to complete — while staring at a particularly fascinating picture of Chang that was on the official university record — the fax machine starts up.

 

Saving the picture; it wasn't a really good shot of him because he was frowning slightly and his glasses were askew but he looks kinda cute like that, I turn to my fax, which is still spitting out papers.

 

Page after page of detailed instructions about environmentally friendly processes, manufacturer's data sheets, installation procedures...

 

I frown. Then I smirk in understanding.

 

You're not getting away that easily, Chang.

 

When the information downloads are complete, I shut down my computer again and

grab the sheaf of papers and my coat.

 

~

 

I make my way through the quiet hallways of the university science faculty buildings. I had to pass through the chemistry building on my way from the carpark to the biochemistry block, and my nose wrinkles at the metallic-chemical tang that hangs heavily in the air. Ice-makers and glass cabinets line the hallways, and I can hear the whine of fume cupboards within the labs.

 

The researchers' offices, I've noticed, are located beside the laboratories. I've also noticed that different laboratories have different smells. Not that unpleasant, though I did pass one organic laboratory — says so in block letters on the door — that seems to be dealing with ammonia.

 

It all seems... *smells* so unhealthy! And he can say that *my* factories are environmentally unfriendly?

 

The biochemistry building wasn't any better. The air here has more of a musty, sharp smell. Like yeast or mold.

 

I feel more than a bit queasy now. If I can *smell* it, does it mean the spores are in the air, in my lungs....

 

Finally, I locate Chang's lab. And it *has* to be on the fourth floor; the top floor. I wonder how they allocate — old, decrepit researchers on the ground floor and young, strapping ones who can climb on the top floor?

 

Mmm... speaking of strapping bodies...

 

Smirking and thinking naughty thoughts, I poke my head into Chang's lab. There are two guys in the lab — I assume they're his students. One is a blond, and the other, a tall brunette. Both are dressed in white coats and standing in front of the work tables, where experiments are clearly going on.

 

The blond turns to me with a questioning smile. "Are you looking for Dr Chang?"

 

"Yes. Is he in?"

 

"In his office." The blond points to an adjoining door and I nod my thanks.

 

Knocking once, I didn't bother to wait for an answer before I open the door and let myself in. Chang's head pops out from behind his computer monitor as I shut the door behind me.

 

"Yuy," he growls, brows knitting. "What are you doing here?"

 

In answer, I wave the stack of faxed papers.

 

"I faxed across clear instructions and suggestions," he sniffed. "You don't understand?"

 

I take my time to walk towards him, looking over his desk — and him — as I do so. His desk is the centerpiece of his office, an ergonomic curved shape with plenty of space to work. Like me, his desk is neat; filing cabinets and trays keep the paperwork in check. Unlike me, his desk contains a few personal touches — a tin of Chinese tea, a mug, a glass jar of brightly wrapped chocolate pieces, some curios that looked like puzzles, a small bonsai...

 

"Finished cataloging my desk yet?" Chang asks sarcastically.

 

"No," I answer with a grin, and look around idly.

 

Though small, his office appears quite spacious.  There are large windows that run along two walls, and a few potted plants line the window sill. The morning sun glides warm amber oblongs on the dull concrete flooring and the plants create interesting shadows. A book case takes up one entire wall and on the last remaining wall, there's a chinese scroll and a sword.

 

Chang even manages to squeeze in a small armchair beside the bookcase. Mm... The things you can do with padded furniture; I'd prefer a couch but an armchair is good too. 

 

"Is there a reason you're here, Yuy?" Chang growls again in irritation. "Some of us *do* have work to do."

 

I turn to look at him, and then slowly, I spread the papers on his desk, a bland smile on my face. "Not all of us have doctorates in biochemistry."

 

He's dressed in a pressed navy shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, and black jeans. I wonder if it's the same pair as the one he wore yesterday.

 

"I didn't write them for a fellow colleague, I wrote them so that an idiot can understand." Chang rolls his eyes. "I'm sure you can figure it out, Yuy."

 

"Then I must be an even bigger idiot than you thought." I tried to give my most retarded look — not that I actually have *any* retarded looks.

 

Sighing, Chang pushes up his metal-rims and starts to explain. As he talks, I sidle closer, moving towards the side of the desk where he sits. Chang stands up, still talking.

 

Curious, I take a mincing step closer. Chang moves a small step away.

 

Another shuffling step and I'm now right beside his swivel chair. Chang, by now, is on the other side of his desk. Though his voice is steady in full-lecturer mode, his eyes are cast downwards on the papers and the slight hunch of his shoulders scream his defensiveness.

 

Smirking evilly, I chase him — very slowly — as I make appropriate comments, occasionally even asking a pertinent question. Chang continues to shuffle away — bit by bit — even as he lectures on as if nothing is wrong.

 

Round and round, like a couple of idiots we dance around his desk.

 

As Chang's eyes remain glued downwards, I take the fantastic opportunity to ogle him. Lean muscles shifts and flexes beneath his clothes as he moves, and I mourn the thickness of the fabric that covers his latte-creamy skin. He'll look better in silk or satin, I decide, or nothing at all.

 

I wonder what happens if I do manage to catch him. The *image* burns in my mind and I'm suddenly feeling rather primal — I feel the urge to mark him, to show the world he's *mine* with lips and lots of tongue and some teeth. I wonder if he yips or whimpers when nipped... I wonder if he likes biting.

 

Oooga ooga.

 

Fuck. Chang has this *uncanny* ability to do this to me. I'm normally an urbane — all right cold, sometimes even unfeeling — fellow, but Chang has a tendency to bring out the animal in me.

 

After a few rounds around the maypole of his desk, I decide to call a stop to it.

 

"Chang. Stop. I do understand what you're saying but listen. Firstly, you're the expert so you're the best person to implement all these. Secondly, don't forget that I am under no obligation to do so."

 

Chang pauses, swallows and finally looks up at me, face carefully blank. "You're perfectly right. So. What do you want me to do?"

 

I raise a brow at *that* suggestive comment, and he blushes faintly. "Lots..."

 

He crosses his arms and glares at me hotly, practically daring me to say something lewd.

 

Grinning, I give him a break. "Why don't I bring you down to my plant. Introduce you to the foreman and you can start from there? Are you free now?"

 

His countenance still wary, Chang glances down at his watch. "...yes."

 

~

 

After introducing Chang to the foreman at my nearest factory — just a half-hour easy drive from the university in fact — I head back to the office. Ostensibly to do work, but I can't seem to keep my mind focused on business.

 

Chang’s different from my past lovers. Well for one, nobody has ever rejected me — the name Yuy can do wonders when picking up people — but strangely, that just makes me want him all the more. Knowing that it *won’t* be my name or my money that he’s attracted to.

 

But more so than that, he dares to argue with me; he’s not intimidated by me. And that’s rare. Even Duo, confident beautiful Duo, acquiesces to me.

 

Is this a good idea? Chasing after Chang? It won't be easy, especially since Chang seems equally determined to run away. But I've got mulish patience and I've got a trump card.

 

Besides, I'm sure Chang feels the sparks between us too. My lips curl arrogantly. It's just a matter of time and effort.

 

It'll be my most expensive — and unusual — courtships. But I don't care. Chang's wrong on that count; it's not the *money* that interest me, it's the *acquisition*. It's a game, a hunt, a mission, and money's simply the most convenient means of keeping score.

 

Speaking of which...

 

I give Duo a call. I know what I was going to say; I'm not going to break up with Duo, not just yet, not until I know for sure Chang's interested. Always have a back-up.

 

I’m not going to string them, Duo or Chang, along — I believe in monagomy — but I also believe in hedging my bets.

 

But for now I'll just need to stall Duo for a bit.

 

//Duo Maxwell is Not Here. He's off getting his Pretty Face photographed for Obscene Amounts of money at some Exotic Location so leave a message after the beep. Try not to drown in your drool. BEEP.\\

 

I hang up without leaving a message, smirking. This is very convenient. Now Duo'll be out of town for a few days at least.

 

I wonder how Duo'll react when I tell him. Will he cling on or will he just shrug? Relationships are dime-a-dozen, especially among the celebrity circle Duo moves about in.

 

Foolishness. I'm spending too much time obessing over my relationships. Especially when the other parties concerned are not even here.

 

Shaking my head and forcing my attention back to the present, I turn to the stack of documents on my desk with a determined frown.

 

~

 

The next morning, I give a call to Chang’s lab. “Hello. Is Chang Wufei in?”

 

//Yes he’s in his office. Shall I divert you?\\ Sounds like the blond from yesterday.

 

I pause, then smirk. “No, I wish to surprise him.”

 

When I step into the lab a short while later, a rose in one hand and a small but expensive box of chocolates in my pocket, that cheeky blond smiles broadly. He’s seated near the entrance of the lab and appears to be writing in a log book. The tall brunette isn’t around.

 

“Are you dating Wufei?” He puts down his pen and asks boldly.

 

“What if I am?” I say noncommitally, taking my first proper look at the blond. He could be a potential ally — or not — in my pursuit of Chang.

 

“Then I’ll warn you to be careful, Mr Yuy.” The sunny smile abruptly hardens. When I raise an umimpressed brow, he continues. “I read the society papers, even if Wufei doesn’t. I know your track record of lovers, and I know Duo Maxwell is your supposed boyfriend at the moment. What of *him*?”

 

“Duo and I have an open relationship.” I shrug. That was one of my conditions. We're steady but not exclusive.

 

Cornflower-blue eyes steeled. “And your intentions towards Wufei? He is… he’s *not* into casual relationships.”

 

“I know he’s not,” I say quietly. Evasively.

 

“What do you want?” The blond asks bluntly and stands up in front of me. “If you’re expecting some meaningless fling with Wufei, I *will* throw you out of the lab now.”

 

'Will you?' The sneering challenge is at the tip of my tongue, but I restrain the temptation. My fingers rub absently at the soft petals of the rose, soft as Chang’s lips.

 

What *do* I want? A fling? Something more?

 

Something tells me that it can be a *lot* more, with Chang Wufei.

 

"Frankly, I cannot promise anything. But—" and why do I even need to justify myself to this whelp? "—what I want with Chang Wufei is not what I have with Duo Maxwell. Do you know what I mean?”

 

He considers me thoughfully, arms crossed like a loyal guard between me and the entrance ot Chang’s office. Finally, he shakes his head slightly and steps aside, turning back to his work. "Ch."

 

My respect for the blond goes up a notch.

 

I must be losing my touch — another person who isn't afraid of me.

 

Again I let myself in quietly, and again Chang looks up to glare at me. But he does not stand up but continues to type away at his computer. Probably hoping that if he ignores me, I'll go away like a bad smell.

 

A small grin tugs at my lips and I amble around his office, shamelessly looking around. He’s getting used to me. The steady clacking of the keyboard is the only sound in the quiet office. Curious, I walk over to the window and look out. The campus grounds are quite deserted. "Summer break for the students?"

 

"Aa."

 

"So what have you done with my factory so far?"

 

"I'm sure Mr Ghemi will tell you."

 

"I'm sure he will too, but I want to know what *you* think."

 

A grunt. "I'll have the full report on your desk tommorrow."

 

"I don't need a written report." Walking over to the wall with the Chinese scroll, I peer at the creamy velum. Chinese is very similar to Japanese kanji; many words share the same meaning. Looks expensive and...

 

"Does this say... keep your room clean?" I blink. "You wrote this?"

 

"Yes. And no, my wife wrote it. She had an odd sense of humor."

 

"She must have been an interesting woman." My jaw isn't clenched. No, I'm *not* jealous of some dead female.

 

“She was.” The clacking noises stop. "Yuy..."

 

"Chang..." I drawl, turning to pad towards him. With a dramatic flourish I’m actually a little embarassed of, I place the rose in front of him.

 

"Come out for lunch with me today."

 

His eyes widen comically.

 

"Just lunch, Chang," I add sincerely.

 

Suspicious eyes flickers derisively to the rose and he scowls darkly. "I'm not some female to be courted with dead vegetation."

 

Miscalculation: perhaps I should have brought a potted *live* plant for my environmentalist instead.

 

"My mistake," I remark ruefully and I take out the box of chocolates. "Shall I court you with food instead?"

 

Chang flushes angrily. "Are you mocking me?"

 

"Never." My tone becomes serious for a moment. "Chang, you know that I want you. But you also know that I'm always honest with you. I'm not playing some mind-game with you — I just want to get to know you better. I want *you* to know me better."

 

"Yuy..." He eyes me suspiciously. "Of all the possible people in Sanc... *Why* me?"

 

My head tilts slightly as I study him, puzzled. He was gorgeous, smart, and more than all that, he has something that just *arrests* my attention. "Why not?"

 

His breath huffs out exasperatedly. "Yuy, I'm *heterosexual*. That sort of reduces your odds to—" he circles his thumb and forefinger. "Don't waste your time."

 

"You're a scientist, Chang. You should know there's no absolute." My lips quirk and I lean back against his desk. "An open-minded guy I know, who has, to my knowledge, never been with another guy, said, 'It's not that I'm straight. It's that I've never met another guy I'm attracted to.'"

 

"Your point being that you think you can convince me, Yuy?" Chang snorts sardonically, crossing his arms as he tilts back in his chair to look up at me. Hm. I quite like this view. "Yuy, ego. Ego, Heero Yuy."

 

"Of course," I say matter-of-factly. "I'm gorgeous, brillant and rich."

 

He gives a sudden bark of laughter. "God, you're hilarious Yuy."

 

"That too," I flash him a grin — even though I *had* been perfectly serious. "Come on, Chang. It's only lunch."

 

"All right. You're *persistent.*" Chang complains with a hint of petulance. Then he sits upright and pushes me away from his desk. "Now get lost. I've work to do."

 

Tempting heat where his hand touches my hips through the thin fabric of my pants and sulky thrust of his lip, and it's not *my* fault I just had to lean down to brush my lips against his.

 

A ghosting touch, almost familiar in its easiness. So sweet too, the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, just so.

 

Smirking, I stand up and saunter away. "I'll pick you up at eleven-thirty. Dear."

 

"Don't pick me up! It's not—" His yell trails off to a frustrated expletive when I close the office door behind me.

 

"YUY!"

 

The blond gives me the evil eye on my way out.

 

~

 

I brought him a small potted plant the next day — a prickly catus because that just reminded me of him — and another box of chocolates. And the next day after that, and day after that, until he now has an impressive row of small pots lining his window sill — cacti and flowering plants and plump leafy ones and trailing vines — and a growing stack of little multi-colored boxes of chocolates on his bookshelf.

 

The Tottering Tower, the blond informed me too cheerily. One such box sits half-eaten and open on the benchtop, sandwiched between a thick manual and a pipette carousel.

 

Tower of Yuy, the brunette postgrad chipped in solemnly. Turned out that those two are Chang's postgraduate students and, oh they love chocolates too.

 

Yuy’s Folly, I don’t hope.

 

We go out almost everyday, for a meal, and occasionally even for a show. For a 'peaceful' environmentalist, he has quite a violent streak — I was surprised and delighted to learn that he enjoy martial art movies like me.

 

And yet, for all my so-called progress, I still feel like I've not moved any. Every step I take towards him, it seems like he’s taking one step back. He doesn’t run away, but he’s not allowing me near as well. Every touch, every kiss I manage to steal from him — it’s just that; taken and not given.

 

I stare morosely at the row of small potted plants — it's my personal goal to get him into bed before the pots reach the other end of the sill and it's already three-quarters there. The evening sun casts amber halos around the plant silhouettes.

 

Chang is out in his lab, finishing up some experiments. I had made myself comfortable on his armchair, laptop on my lap, while I wait for him. My window is still opened to Duo’s latest email where he happily informs me that he’ll be back next week.

 

Damn.

 

I need…  

 

I need something to break the stalemate between us. This is all very comfortable; the meals, the easy conversation, but I’m going to need something else to jack whatever it is between us to the next level.

 

Plans form and are discarded just as quickly in my head as I call up the information — all encrypted of course — I’ve dug up about Chang.

 

I need something that will break us out of this comfort zone, and it *is* too comfortable for him because I’m not really *pushing* him. He’s running and I’m *allowing* him to run.

 

Preferably something that will get the two of us out of town for a while. I find that being displaced from one’s usual environment tends to have a parallel effect of drawing people from their often self-imposed barriers, forcing them to re-examine themselves.

 

Perhaps a trip? But what would draw Chang away? What would make him agree to go on a trip *with me*?

 

And then, I found it.

 

~*~

 

tbc...

 

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